


Everyone Likes Gold

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: by Quickly KateShort Buffy musings on gold. Not really that shipper-y. (Gasp- Horrors!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).
> 
> \--
> 
> Rating: PG (just to be on the safe side)
> 
> Summary: Short Buffy musings on gold. Not really that shipper-y. (Gasp- Horrors!)
> 
> Warnings: None 
> 
> Disclaimer: these characters are not mine, blah blah biddy blah.
> 
> Spoilers: Season Five implied
> 
> Feedback: I beg of you!!

Everyone likes gold the best. It's all you see, in the mall jewelry stores, filled with glitter and shimmer, with teenage girls and lovesick guys fingering the smooth, soft surfaces and scoffing at the price tags. I'm always stuck, alone in the corner, silver and platinum and white gold reflecting desire back at me. I love white gold. It's beautiful and stronger than gold. But it's more expensive, and I can't really afford most of the jewelry I already own.  
You can tell which of my bracelets, rings, earrings that I've bought and which someone has bought for me. Riley has this fascination with gold. He bought me this ring for my birthday, 14 carat. I don't wear it. It really is pretty, it's just that gold feels wrong. Heavy. Suffocating.  
So I'm off tonight, headed for the hospital. I can't stand that place. There's this nurse, she calls me 'honey' all the time. She wears all this jewelry, necklaces, bracelets, and I have never seen a single sparkle of silver among them. So I feel like I have to compensate. I clasp a simple silver cross around my neck and slip shimmering bangles onto my wrists. I slide a pair of silver studs into the bottom two holes in my earlobes and grab my black peacoat from the closet.  
I pound down the stairs, the sound from my footsteps filling the empty house with hollow presence. I'm out the door in a flash. I hate being home alone.  
The hospital really isn't that far to walk, but I should have let Riley drive me. Or Xander. Probably Xander. I'm almost sure to meet some cocky, self-satisfied vamp along the way who really deserves a good old-fashioned Slayer Smackdown.  
"Hey, love." Yep. There you go. One cocky, self-satisfied vamp, as ordered. I don't turn around, since he's just going to fall into step with me anyway.  
I'm right of course, and Spike shortens his longer stride, so that we're stepping at the same time. Left, right, left, right. "Heading for hospital, then?" I just nod.  
He's smoking. I hate when he does that. I hate how the cigarette looks, hanging from those full lips, and how the smoke shimmers as it drifts up to encircle his head. His hair shines in the darkness, looking for all the world like strands of the thinnest platinum. I'd never understood that particular color, platinum blonde. It sits right next to my own "honey gold" on the store shelf, but until I saw him that night outside the Bronze, I couldn't visualize anyone with hair the color of my favorite metal. It suits him.  
We stride down the sidewalk, the same assured step I use during patrol, quick and relatively painless. He doesn't say anything, and I can't help but look over at him occasionally. He draws your eye. It's the old "train wreck" scenario. You don't want to look, but you can't look away.  
He shimmers. When he walks though a patch of moonlight that filters between the 'S' and the 'U' in the Sun Cinema's sign, he seems to glitter. I let my hand drift up to slide a finger along the length of the chain hung loosely around my neck. It glows in the moonlight, pale and slender.  
Everyone likes gold the best. Except me. 


End file.
